Pactbound
by DrewbearSCP
Summary: This time, Taylor was rescued from the locker far sooner and by a much more important person than the janitor. And the aftermath of that is going to cause havok for absolutely everyone.
1. Contact

Emma and Sophia walked down the hallway past Taylor's locker. It was out of the way for either of them to get to their next class, but when your audience was captive...

"I wonder what that smell is? Smells like something died. Taylor must be nearby."

It wasn't one of Emma's stronger barbs, but this _was_ their third pass of the day and you ran out eventually. Hell, she wasn't even sure if Taylor was still conscious. The pounding on the locker door had been awfully weak the last pass and there wasn't any at all this time.

Sophia smirked. "Must be. Couldn't mistake that stench for anything other than her nasty cooch. Girl must not ever shower."

Their quips delivered, the two continued on. As they reached the end of the hallway and were about to split up for their respective classes, there was a loud crash as the window in front of them smashed inwards, followed immediately by a loud screech of metal being torn behind them.

They spun around and

What.

The.

Fuck.

Was that _SCION_ pulling Taylor free from the locker?

As the entire hallway of people froze in shock, Taylor managed to limply pull her head up and lock eyes with the Golden Man. A moment passed. Then a minute. Then two. Scion hanging motionless in the air, gently holding the girl covered in noxious filth, the two staring intently at each other.

Finally, Scion lowered Taylor to the ground. As her feet touched the floor, a golden flash momentarily blinded everyone watching. When it passed, Taylor was standing confidently, clean as if she had never been dirty a day in her life. Scion nodded, then was gone in a blur, back out the window he'd come through.

As half a dozen cellphones were trained on Taylor, she looked over at Emma. And smiled.

Instincts screaming, Emma fled.


	2. Conversations

The next few hours were quite busy for Taylor, what with the entirety of the local Protectorate capes showing up at Winslow, a very tense escort first to Blackwell's office, where her father was called to meet them at the Rig, then to the Rig itself. The interrogation that Armsmaster and Miss Militia tried to put her through. Her stony silence until her father arrived.

Yes, it was quite a day.

"And _why_ is my daughter being held here?"

Her father, for all his recent mental absence, was still sharp as a tack when push came to shove.

"Mr. Hebert, it's standard procedure to interview anyone involved in an interaction with Scion. And the circumstances under which your daughter interacted with him are... unusual." Miss Militia was leading the interchange while Armsmaster stood in the corner, his imposing blue armor still enough that he must have locked the joints.

"You mean how he rescued me from a locker that should rightfully be classified as a biohazard?" Taylor stared at Miss Militia with a sickly sweet smile on her face. She somehow understood exactly what the woman was trying to do, putting them at ease so as to extract the maximum amount of information from them.

Miss Militia turned to meet Taylor's eyes. "Yes, Miss Hebert, but also what followed. I don't know if you know, but Scion usually doesn't stick around after performing his good deeds. He's more of a whoosh-in-whoosh-out kind of guy. So him spending more than a minute just staring at you leads to a lot of questions."

The smile never left Taylor's face, which was actually starting to creep out Miss Militia a little. If anything, it grew a little wider. It seemed... _unnatural_.

Danny stepped in once more. "That may as be, but Taylor did nothing wrong and you have no cause to keep her here. In fact, I'd like us to leave right now."

He stood, motioning for his daughter to join him. She did so, languidly. Armsmaster jerked an almost imperceptible amount as his joints unlocked and he twitched his halberd as if to block the door. Behind the Heberts, Miss Militia shook her head slightly and he pulled the weapon back.

"You are of course free to leave, if you wish, Mr. Hebert. I would like to point out that Scion's interaction with your daughter is very widely known at this point. There are multiple videos already online showing what happened between them. It might not be safe to return home, in case somebody wants to garner some street cred by attacking one of Scion's rescuees."

Danny stopped dead and slowly turned his head to face the woman.

"Are you _threatening_ us, Miss Militia?"

"Of course not. I'm merely pointing out something you may not have thought of. Taylor is safer in our custody than she would be at home."

Taylor turned smoothly, wide smile still on her face. "I think I'll be okay, Miss Militia. No one is going to bother the girl blessed by Scion. He might come back, after all, and I expect they would live to regret it."

An involuntary shiver went down Hana's spine. The girl hadn't done anything explicitly parahuman, but she was just... _off_, in a way that set Hana's teeth on edge.

She sighed. "If you insist. At least let us give you a number for the Protectorate's back line, so if something happens we can respond immediately."

A slow nod from the tall girl. "Thank you. I doubt we'll need it, but the thought is appreciated."

* * *

After a car ride home filled with unspoken words, the two Heberts finally entered their home shortly before 8PM. Danny puttered around in the kitchen, preparing a couple of sandwiches for them, as Taylor seemed content to sit quietly at the table waiting. Finally, the tension grew too strong for Danny and he broke through the silence that had been sitting between them for far too long.

"What happened, honey? Why were you in that locker in the first place and what did you mean by calling it a biohazard?"

Taylor focused on him and the smile that had graced her face finally faltered and fell. The confidence that held her upright flagged and she slumped forward, once again the picture of uncertainty and despair that had been her previous standard.

"There were, are, these bullies. They've been after me almost since I started at Winslow, escalating bit by bit. Today was... just the latest peak. They somehow got into my locker and filled it with... the _foulest_ stuff they could find. I'm pretty sure there were used tampons and pads, maybe some dirty diapers, lord knows where they got those from. It was... unimaginable in how foul it was. It must've been sitting and fermenting for days. So when they shoved me in there, I kinda lost it. I don't remember a whole lot between when Sophia shoved me in and when Scion let me out."

"Sophia? Who's Sophia? I think I need to have a talk with the school about what she did."

"Don't bother, Dad. She's on the track team and their golden girl for some reason. Emma backing her up doesn't hurt."

"Wait, Emma? Your best friend Emma?"

Tears threatened to overflow Taylor's eyes as she hunched over further.

"Ex-best friend. Something happened to her, I don't know what, and she turned on me. The most evil, stereotypical Queen Bee bitch you could ever think of and she uses everything she knows about me as a weapon."

Taylor paused, not noticing the rising rage on her father's face.

"I tried to be the bigger person, turning the other cheek, not reacting and it never worked. I tried going to the teachers and the principal and they always believed Emma and Sophia and Madison."

Barely constrained anger filled Danny's voice as he tried to stay calm. "Why didn't you tell me about any of this, honey? I could've done something."

Still not looking at him, Taylor shook her head, her long black hair a veil across her features. "No you couldn't've, Dad. Emma already told me that if we did anything publicly that she'd have her dad sue us into oblivion for defamation of character. And the school already proved they won't do anything. And besides, you were still so broken up over Mom that I didn't want to put more on your shoulders."

Danny suddenly stood up, the chair skidding across the kitchen floor, and started pacing.

"Honey, I love you for wanting to protect me, but it is my job as a parent to protect you! You should've come to me sooner and we could've figured out something." He scrubbed his hands through his hair.

"Fu-dge. I love you, Taylor, and we'll figure it out."

Taylor watched through her hair as her father paced. Timidly, she said, "There's... something else, too, Dad."

He stopped and looked at her.

"Is this something that's going to make me want to punch someone?"

"Maybe?" **Dad, I think I'm a cape.**

"Wh-what? What was that?"

**I'm speaking in your head, Dad. Looks like telepathy is possible after all.**


	3. Reveal

**Simurgh**_._

It had been the first thing to go through her head when she realized what she could do and she caught a whisper of the word in her father's mind before she cut the connection. It felt like it should have stung, that slight tinge of fear, but considering she felt it too, it was forgivable.

"That's not all, Dad. Um, watch this."

She gestured at her dirty plate, small drips of mustard dotting the surface, and muttered something under her breath. In a flash of golden light, it was clean. Spotless, in fact.

Danny reached out and gingerly touched the plate. "Is that what Scion did to you? Are you... copying him somehow?"

Taylor grimaced. "Not exactly. I'm not sure what power he used on me, but I'm pretty sure I can only clean small stuff. Like, a foot or less. And there's other stuff that seems tied into it. Like this," another gesture, the same mumbling, and the sound of windchimes briefly rang from thin air, "or this." Gesture, mumble, a small wooden yo-yo appeared in her hand with a golden flash. She yo'ed the yo a few times before it vanished back to whence it came. "It's all... the same thing? Like I'm picking up a handful of water out of a bucket and each thing is just a different drip from the same full palm.

"What Scion did to me was... different." A thousand-yard gaze filled her eyes before she shook it off. "I'm pretty sure nobody else was given their powers directly by Scion, though."

"What?!"

She paused so briefly as to almost be unnoticeable. "Dad, I suddenly get powers right after an unusual encounter with Scion. The power signature looks so much like Scion's that it's ridiculous. Of course he gave them to me himself. That's why I've got to be really careful what I do and when I do it."

She took a deep breath.

"And then there's this."

She reached under her shirt and pulled free a pendant on a necklace and let it lay against her chest. It was a large uncut crystal of some kind. It looked like a quartz point but was colored a translucent gold that had flecks of iridescent white flickering within it.

Danny had reached maximum surprise overload and just asked simply, "What's that?"

"It's... a focus. I feel like I have the potential for much bigger things and this will let me channel them. Or at least, channel them easier. If someone took it I would be... upset." A dark look came over her face

Danny sighed and rubbed his face. "So let me get this straight. My daughter is a cape. Scion himself gave her her powers. She has a magic crystal to help her access her powers. And she's going to go off heroing whether I want her to or not."

Taylor startled. "What? No! I'm not going to-"

Danny raised a hand to stop her. "Taylor, I'm not an idiot and I know you. You have your mother's sense of justice and fair play and my, well, my inner anger. You may not intend to right now, but sooner or later you're going to want to go out and use those powers to beat up some bad guys. And if that means sneaking around me, so be it." He sighed. "We've lost touch with each other so much and this is, for better or for worse, giving us a fresh start. Let's not start it with lies or equivocations."

Taylor slumped back and scrubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms."...Yeah, you're probably right. I won't be able to stop myself. Scion gave me these powers for a reason and not fighting the bad guys would be going against that reason."

Her father slapped the table with both hands. "Then we're going to do this right. Get you signed up with the Wards immediately. We can head over there tomorrow..."

He trailed off as he saw the hesitant look on Taylor's face.

"Or not. What's wrong, honey?"

"I don't know. I just get the feeling that joining the Wards would be a really, _really_ bad idea. Like, 'someone ends up dead' bad. Besides, when was the last time a Ward actually got into a fight? You never hear about it and... I really need to fight some bad guys. I can't just be a pretty princess PR doll."

"Well, we can at least get you registered so they know who you are. And I say that out loud and realize how stupid it sounds. They already have you on their radar. Letting them know you have powers when you're not going to join them would probably be a less than wise idea."

"Yeah, probably. Hell, I don't even have a name for myself."

Danny snorted. "That's not really our biggest concern right now, is it?"

Taylor smiled wanly. "I guess not." She yawned wide. "Ugh. Today took more out of me than I thought. I'm going to head for bed." A pause. "I love you, Dad."

Another pause. "I love you, too, Taylor."

* * *

Sleep came hard for Taylor as she tossed and turned long into the evening. Her mind kept replaying those long minutes in the locker, choking on the stench, utter foulness squelching under her feet, the bugs crawling everywhere on her, her throat raw from screaming. And the moment that the door was ripped off and the golden god hovered in front of her. His gentle hands pulling her free of horror. Staring into his eyes. Seeing-

**[DESTINATION]**

** [DISAGREEMENT]**

** [QUERY]**

** [PROPOSAL]**

** [QUERY]**

** [CLARIFICATION]**

** [AGREEMENT]**

** [HELLO TAYLOR]**

She remembered all of it. The giant multidimensional creatures scattering pieces of their flesh across time and space. The argument as the pair of might as well be gods decided what to do with her. Scion offering her a choice, the first human to ever be granted one. And her response.

**yes**

And a golden flash as her being was rewritten.

* * *

_**Author's Notes**_

As you may have already guessed, Taylor is now a Level 1 D&D 5E Warlock, with Scion as her patron, a Great Old One. I mean, giant devouring space whale sounds pretty Cthulhu-esque to me, doesn't it? Anyway, her starting cantrips are Eldritch Blast and Prestidigitation. She hasn't revealed her level 1 spells. Yet. Need an appropriate target, after all...

I will be making Author's Notes infrequently, mainly to provide updates on Taylor's character sheet progression. We're using story event-based leveling rather than XP-based, mainly because I really don't want to have to figure out XP equivalencies for every mook and cape. I also played around with Taylor's stats using new 5E rules, so she's physically slightly more impressive than she is in canon. Now, for those of you following along at home, Taylor's starting HP is 8. Let's see how long she keeps those.


	4. Preparations

People were staring at Taylor and whispering as she passed, but this time she _knew_ the reason why and didn't mind. Let them wonder about her, Scion's Chosen. Not that anyone knew for sure what she could do, herself included. But having a metaphorical aura of mystery and uncertain possibilities surrounding her could only improve matters.

And speaking of improving matters, there was the Trio, conveniently loitering near Taylor's first period class. Certainly not waiting to ambush her, no, that would be _bullying_ and girls of such caliber as they would _never_ do that. A flicker of the old Taylor tried to get her to flinch, to hunch over, to take up as little space as possible and you know what? _Fuck that_.

A wide smile on her face, Taylor walked up to the Trio.

"Hi, girls! How nice of you to wait for me! How're you doing after yesterday's little unpleasantness?"

All three immediately looked taken aback and disconcerted, albeit in different ways. Sophia looked at her warily, eyes flicking up and down as she gauged Taylor's body language and seemingly reassessed her, all in an instant. Madison retreated slightly behind the other two, breaking the wall they had been forming, concern and disquiet written all across her face. And Emma? Emma looked scared. No, not scared. _Terrified_ and trying to hide it. Sophia may have collapsed when Scion did whatever he did to Taylor, but she had seen the entire thing and knew that her old friend had been fundamentally changed in ways that made the lizard part of her brain want to run away screaming.

Emma tried to rally her usual cutting barbs. "Oh, Taylor, we're so glad you're safe. You're so clumsy that when you fell into your locker no-one must've noticed. And you were so weak you needed rescuing, too. You really ought to take better care of yourself, you looked a fright."

The grin never left Taylor's face throughout and was she even blinking? Yes, she was, just slow enough that Emma's eyes watered in sympathy. Instead of cringing as she would've done yesterday, Taylor suddenly hugged both Emma, who froze in surprise, and Sophia, who tried to break the hold and failed. Madison looked at the tableau with wide eyes, then glanced around the hall, seeing everyone looking at them, seeing Taylor not be scared, seeing Madison and her friends _losing_ somehow. She decided retreat was the better part of valor and very definitely didn't run away to her own first class.

As Madison fled, Taylor said, in a low but cheerful voice that carried no further than the ears of her be-hugged tormentors, "Be careful girls. You never know who's watching."

Sophia shoved hard, breaking the hug, and stumbled back a step. "What the fuck, Hebert? Since when did you grow a spine? It doesn't suit you."

Before releasing Emma, Taylor leaned further in and in that same cheerful voice whispered directly into her ear, "We're not friends anymore, are we, Emma? _Good._"

That done, Taylor released her ex-friend and turned slightly to face the increasingly angry track star.

"I would love to stay and chat, Sophia, but I actually have some learning to do. Not all of us can be the _golden_ children of the school, now can we? Ta!"

Without waiting for a response, Taylor walked past the stunned duo into her first period classroom. The hallway behind her was dead still, everyone watching the scene that had just transpired. Then the warning bell rang and the spell was broken. Everyone hurried off to their own classes. More than one video was uploading to WeTube, though.

* * *

The Trio and their hangers-on avoided Taylor for the rest of the day, wary of the changes in her, which suited the black-haired girl just fine. Fewer distractions. She participated more in class, people deferring to her as if afraid to interrupt. Even the teachers seemed... not deferential, but wary of Taylor. She was different now and everyone could tell. It was nice.

After school, she went by the bank, withdrew her meager savings, and went shopping. Sporting goods store for a hunting knife, jogging bra, and balaclava; fabric store for a few yards of dark blue cotton and matching thread; hardware store to get some thick doweling (cut to a length of 6 feet and boy wasn't _that_ fun maneuvering around on the bus). Time to gear up as best she could. Knife, quarterstaff, fabric that she could turn into a simple cloak, and mask. Hmm. Glasses and a mask didn't go well together. Maybe she could...

Taylor went into the bathroom, took off her glasses, and squinted at herself in the mirror. Contacts would help a lot. Not wearing glasses totally changed the shape of her face, showing that she actually had cheekbones for one. She swept her gaze to the side idly while pondering whether she could get colored lenses to even further disguise things and watched a couple of squirrels chase each other on the tree branch outside her window across the hall. One must've pissed off the other over something. Taylor didn't think it was mating season-

She could see without her glasses.

She tentatively put the glasses back on. There was a moment of readjustment where things were warped and blurry in her vision, then she could see fine. Take them off, that same moment and then perfect vision. Fuck. Yeah.

A minute of fist-pumping celebration later, she bounded downstairs, where her dad was watching the news.

"Dad! Dad, look!"

He looked away from the TV, nervousness writ on his face, and paused.

"What am I looking at, honey?"

"No glasses! Whatever Scion did to me, I don't need glasses any more! I can still wear them and my eyes adjust, but I don't need them if I don't want to wear them!"

Danny blinked in surprise a couple of times, then smiled. "That's great, honey! Another side effect of your powers, do you think?"

Taylor paused in momentary self-inventory. "No, I think this is separate from them. A baseline all-around improvement. I feel a little stronger, somewhat smarter and a _lot_ more confident than I did before he did whatever he did. Like he upgraded? No, _optimized_ my body and mind before I could withstand the powers."

An unnatural stillness settled upon her, absent even the micro-twitches of the body rebalancing itself. She was perfectly settled in place without excess motion needed. Danny shivered a little. But maybe that was just the overhead fan being a little too strong.

"Dad, where's Mom's old sewing machine?"

He blinked a bit at the question. "Down in the basement, I think. Don't know if it even works any more, though."

Taylor smiled lazily. "Oh, I don't think that'll be a problem. I feel like I can figure it out."

* * *

The next morning, Taylor awoke from her _precisely_ eight hours of sleep, fully refreshed, to find her mother's old sewing machine freshly cleaned and oiled and waiting on her desk, ready for use. As much as she itched to get to work on her costume, she _did_ have to go to school. Dammit. At least the thing she'd made? Summoned? Whatever. It had done what she'd told it to do. She wasn't sure of the exact extent of its capabilities and whether it could fix up the machine, but apparently it worked.

That weird sense of emptiness, no, _being spent_ that she'd felt when she brought it into being was gone, too. She got the feeling that she'd only be able to use one of those more complex applications of her powers before she had to rest. For now, anyway.

Tonight she'd finish making her adventuring gear (and where did that phrase come from?).

Tomorrow she'd go hunting.


	5. First Blood

Dear lord, patrolling was _so boring_.

Here Taylor was, making rounds of the Docks like a proper little adventurer, and _absolutely nothing was happening_. She grimaced underneath her mask. She bet Glory Girl never had to spin her wheels instead of just finding bad guys to stop.

The cloaked figure leaned against an empty warehouse and carefully scratched underneath her balaclava. So fricking itchy. I mean, it was keeping her face warm as well as hidden, but fucking wool, man. Next time she upgraded her costume she was going to find something more comfortable.

She was about to resume her fruitless patrol when she heard... something inside the warehouse. Not machinery or engines and not speech... More like someone trying to be quiet but not caring _too_ much about it? Aaaaand there was a loud sneeze and some muffled cursing. Yeesh. Welp, looks like someone was where they shouldn't be!

Taylor quickly looked around. There was a rolling cargo door around the corner where she just came from, that was out for obvious reasons. This side had some windows way up near the roof, but that was a good twenty feet up and Taylor couldn't fly. Yet, anyway. Around the other corner!

A service door, good. She sneaked up and carefully turned the knob. Unlocked. Whoever was in there was an _idiot_. Carefully open the door and slip inside. The cloak billowed slightly, obscuring her form, midnight blue against the darkness outside.

Taylor suddenly snapped aware. There was someone else in here. I mean, duh, but literally right in this space with her. She was thinking faster than usual. A lot faster. Like she had all the time in the world to consider her next action. Thinker power, nifty! She decided to spin her cloak around her and duck. Hopefully it would make her harder to hit.

And a loud retort as a gun went off, barely missing her. Some asshole tried to shoot her! Oh, this would not stand. Having declared their position, Taylor was now aware of exactly where her opponent was. Too far to strike immediately with her knife or staff, but... there was one of her powers she wanted to try...

A glow filled her hand in an instant, illuminating her for a moment before she aimed at her assailant. A blast of light in a color that hurt to look at hit her target, who glowed briefly as the bolt struck him. He dropped like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Huh. She had the feeling that the amount of damage she could do was somewhat variable, but surely she hadn't taken him out in one hit and oh shit did she just kill him?

Taylor rushed forward, dropping her staff, which clattered to the ground, and knelt next to the guy. Fuck, she recognized him! Bob or Ben or something from school, who had dropped out over the winter break. Guess he found a better option. Or at least one he couldn't refuse.

She didn't remember a lot from the first aid training she'd had when she and Emma had been Girl Scouts, but she knew enough to check his pulse and breathing. Okay, okay, she didn't kill him, there was a pulse. A weak one, and shallow breathing, but not dead. Just defeated. Okay, good.

There was another bang as an inner door was kicked open and light flooded into the room. _Fuck_, of course the gunshot would attract unwelcome attention! No weapons at hand except a gun she didn't know how to use, she needed to practice more with that blast thing before she used it against another person, that other guy was moving awfully slowly... Nope, that thinker power again. She was going to be able to act before him. How could she resolve this? De-escalation, Taylor, think about how to de-escalate!

"I could've easily killed your friend here and can just as easily kill you."

Okay, what the fuck was coming out of her mouth? And why was the guy not shooting yet?

"Put down your weapon and I won't blast you to pieces so small that Scion himself couldn't put you back together."

Project yourself, make him believe you, you're a big intimidating person, Taylor, be afraid of the unknown cape, dude. Be afraid and "_Drop the fucking gun before I boil your eyes out of your head!_"

A clatter as the firearm hit the floor. So that worked.

Taylor stood and her cloak closed around her, cutting what must've been an imposing figure given how the second guy was now actually literally quivering in fear and was that? Yup, he just pissed himself. For fuck's sake, she knew that there was no way she was that scary, so what the hell was going on?

She took one step towards the second, older man and... he passed out. For reals. Oooookaaaaay. So apparently when she tried she could be a scary-ass bitch. Good to know. Didn't feel like a power, though. Or at least not one of the abilities that Scion gave her. Maybe something in the way he optimized her? Whatever, she would figure it out later.

First things first, gather the guns so if they came to, they wouldn't shoot her in the back. Second things second, look through the open doorway into the larger space and huh. Four women tied to mattresses. Four naked women tied to mattresses. Four beaten up, naked women tied to mattresses.

Taylor turned and kicked the guy who'd passed out in the ribs and felt something crack. Steel-toed boots for the win. Now that he wasn't backlit, she could tell that he was a middle-aged Asian man. Vietnamese, maybe? Which meant this was almost certainly an ABB setup.

Punishment done, she walked over to the row of mattresses, pulled out her hunting knife, and started cutting the women free.

"I don't have anything to cover you with, I'm sorry. But I'm about to call the police and I'll let them know to bring blankets or scrubs or something. Don't worry, I'll keep you safe until they get here."

The women seemed shell-shocked into speechlessness until one, a tall black woman, visibly steeled herself and stood. "Thank you. Did you kill them?" Her voice was flat, with a hint of anticipation.

"No, but I made sure that they'll remember tonight."

"Pity."

And in that awkward silence, Taylor used the cheapie burner phone she'd bought at the convenience store to call 911.

"911, please state the nature of the emergency."

"Yeah, I just rescued some women from a whorehouse and beat up the guards and need someone to come pick them up and get them somewhere safe."

"Where are you located, ma'am?"

"Warehouse 17 on Fleet Street in the Docks. Um, none of these ladies have any clothes and I don't see any in here, so whoever you send should bring something for them."

"Emergency services are on their way, ma'am. You said you rescued these women. Are you a powered individual, ma'am?"

"Yes."

"Are there any other powered individuals involved that responders should be aware of?"

"You mean villains? No, none that I could tell."

"Thank you. Police should be there in approximately five minutes. Please stay on the line until they arrive."

"Uh, that's okay. I'll just wait here. Oh! Tell the cops that the back door is unlocked and the guards are unconscious and unarmed in the first room. I'm going to watch over them because... uh, I don't have any zipties. But I'll be waiting for them."

With that, Taylor hung up. Okay, mental note to get zipties before she went out again. Still, she didn't get hurt, she rescued some people from sexual slavery, and she didn't have to kill anyone. Not bad for her first night!

True to the dispatcher's word, Taylor heard some cars pull up outside the warehouse and returned to the back room to greet the police. She was waiting in the doorway where she had a good view when the outer door opened. In walked a man wearing a mask of a snarling demon.

Oni Lee. Fuck.


	6. As The Moon

The demon-masked man in front of her collapsed into ash and a sixth sense told her to lean hard to the right just as a knife scraped across her side. He was behind her!

Taylor twisted around and spoke that mouth-numbing word again as her blast of un-light flew directly into the chest of the man who'd tried to stab her.

Who promptly collapsed into white ash. Again.

The air behind her was different. She threw herself forward, too late, as a dagger penetrated her from behind. Not as deep as it could've been, but a stabbed lung wasn't going to be anyone's idea of a good time.

That Thinker power kicked in again as Taylor slowly fell. She was probably going to die. First night out and she fucked up royally and she was going to die. Well, if she was going down, _so was he_.

She turned her torso as she fell, catching sight of the implacable mask as she shouted out something in another, unknown language and he caught fire. Engulfed, in fact. As if the fires of hell had erupted to consume him.

He collapsed into ash. Ha. Thought that was gonna save him? She'd seen the bandolier of grenades and doubted that being on fire-

**BOOOOOM**

**BOOOO**OM

BOOoooom

booooooom

Yup, there it was. Fuck you, Oni Lee. Fire beats clone. Heh, he even turned into ash. For good this time. Oh, that's a lot of blood spreading out beneath you, Taylor. Probably ought to get that taken care of. That fluttery sucking sensation in her chest wasn't great either.

She flop-rolled onto her stomach and tried to get up. "Tried" being the operative word, there. Oh hello again, Mr. Floor.

Taylor heard a scream coming from some distance away and then some hands flipped her cloak back and no, they would see her regular clothes and guess it was her and hands pressed her down, cloth shoved hard against her wound and voices saying "I don't care if you're fucking naked, so am I, go wave down the police, she's dying!" and a siren and a flashlight in her eyes and another, different siren and movement and bright light and A Touch.

Taylor woke up for good to see a teenager who could only be Panacea pulling her hand off Taylor's exposed back. She felt remarkably good for having been stabbed. Oh. Now she wasn't any more.

"Thank you?"

Panacea didn't even look at her as she turned to the next patient being wheeled into the room. In a tired voice, "You're welcome. Don't get hurt again, please."

"I'll try not to." Taylor looked around the room that she guessed was a trauma ward, what with the multiple people with various injuries. A fairly consistent number too, as more were wheeled in as healed ones were wheeled out. Speaking of which, a nurse (orderly? Taylor wasn't sure) pushed Taylor's bed out of the ward into a recovery room, where a young doctor greeted her in a bored tone.

"You have been healed by Panacea under emergent conditions in which your consent could not be obtained. As such, the legal code section 403.995 subsection 197(b) allows the use of parahuman abilities to heal you regardless of the lack of consent. The parahuman who healed you, known as Panacea, is specifically exempt from malpractice suits. Please sign this form indicating that you understand what I have told you."

And shoved a clipboard into Taylor's hands. Wow. That was... perfunctory. Taylor skimmed the short form and yeah, that's what it said, more or less. Oh, and also she waived the right to sue the hospital in the event that she suffered side effects from Panacea's power. Wasn't that convenient for them.

She handed it back unsigned. "Sorry, no. Not signing that."

The doctor (intern?) sighed tiredly and took it back. "Fine. Please wait here for a moment while we get your discharge paperwork."

He turned to one of the nurses behind the recovery room station and said, "Finish this. I have more patients."

A tall black man in scrubs walked over to Taylor. "Sorry about that. He leaves bedside manner to us lowly peons. How're you feeling?"

Taylor went motionless for a moment as she assessed herself. A slow, toothy smile grew over her face before her attention snapped back onto the nurse.

"Like I just rested for a full eight hours. She really knows her stuff, doesn't she?"

The nurse nodded. "Yeah, you were lucky she was on duty here tonight. Otherwise you'd probably still be in surgery. Now, I just need to do some quick neurological tests to make sure you don't have a concussion. If you'll follow this penlight with your eyes only..."  
The next few minutes were a fast barrage of simple tests before the conclusion was that she was probably not going to keel over from brain damage. After receiving the all-clear, the nurse handed her a packet of papers from a printer behind the nurse's station.

"What, not going to ask for payment?" Taylor asked in mild surprise.

"Well, if you're willing to pay I'm sure that the hospital won't mind, but there are procedures in place to cover anonymous care for capes. And 90% of what they would've charged you for was provided free by Panacea, so..."

"So... I'm free to go?"

"Well, I hope you'd be willing to talk with me before you leave."

Taylor turned to see a woman in a dark gray and white bodysuit with a circuit-like design on it standing just inside the doorway to the recovery ward. Battery. A Protectorate cape here for her. Of course. Taylor blinked slowly, steeling herself, then smiled underneath her mask.

"Of course! I assume you don't mean here in public, though. Is there a room or something that your people have reserved for your own use?" Taylor spoke confidently, channeling every bit of pleasantness she could scrounge into her voice."

The corner of Battery's exposed mouth twitched below her visor. "No, but they usually let us use a conference room if one's free. Unless you'd like to come with me to the PRT station...?"

Taylor was already shaking her head. "No, but thank you for the offer. I'm afraid we'll have to keep this short, as I have other obligations. I'm sure you understand."

Battery inclined her head slightly. "Of course. But at the least, can I get your name for my report? Cape name, that is."

Taylor took a deep breath. She hadn't quite been ready to reveal herself to the cape authorities so soon, but nobody could control everything.

"You can call me Argent."


End file.
